


Threads That Are Golden Don't Break Easily

by ViaLethe



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 3 Sentence Ficathon, 3 Sentence Fiction, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 17:10:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17666681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViaLethe/pseuds/ViaLethe
Summary: A collection of Narnia/LotR crossover fills of mine from past Three Sentence Ficathons in which Narnia is located somewhere vaguely near Rohan and the Pevensies come to the aid of Middle Earth. Lewis and Tolkien would probably disapprove wholly.





	1. Floundering for Far Too Long

**Author's Note:**

> This is in no respect a coherent story or even all in the same AU, but I tried to put it in an order that flowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically this one doesn't fit into the main timeline as the Pevensies are meant to be in their 20s and 30s at the time of LotR in that timeline and this is from The Hobbit, but...oh well. It's cute and I'm leaving it here.

_Prompt: Chronicles of Narnia/The Hobbit, Susan Pevensie & Bilbo Baggins, "They really do need all the help they can get to take care of themselves."_

“Trolls _and_ spiders,” Bilbo says, “with not so much as a ‘By the by, Mr Baggins, thank you ever so much for your help in rescuing us’ from a one of them!”

“Dwarves can be terribly single minded,” Susan says, “but I have heard them say that a loyal companion is worth their very weight in riches, so few are those willing to put up with their exploits.”

“Pity I’ve wasted away to a shadow of a hobbit, then,” Bilbo sniffs, but she thinks there’s a pleased gleam in his eye nonetheless, and a smile that suggests the satisfaction of a hobbit with a solvable problem at hand.


	2. I Behold Your Power

_Prompt: LOTR/Narnia, Peter/Eowyn, watching him in the armoury_

When she follows the sound of his voice, ringing out even over the singing of hammers and the constant hum of the bellows, she finds him standing in the midst of the armory, bathed in the glow of the nearby smithy furnace.

“Too long in the arms,” Peter says, shucking the mail shirt off his back and reaching for the next offering; she tries, unsuccessfully, not to admire too closely the lines of his back through the linen tunic plastered to his skin, nor the way his shoulders bunch and roll as he tries the next piece.

“Too small,” he decides, almost as soon as it hits those lovely shoulders, then gasps in pain as his squires seek to tug it off; fortunately for Peter, she steps forth from the shadows to disentangle his hair from the links with gentle fingers, and smiles, saying, “Fear not, my lord, for I am here to rescue you.”


	3. Courage, Teach Me To Be Shy

_Prompt: LOTR/Narnia, Peter/Eowyn, the first time armour is removed_

She hisses in sympathy at the long scrape on his bicep, and it is purely altruism (yes, altruism) that leads her to aid in the removal of his undertunic, silently marveling at each inch of broad chest revealed, at the scattering of golden hair catching the soft light.

When he clears his throat, something about it sounds distinctly amused, and she looks up to see him grinning down at her, saying, “I believe it's your turn now, my lady.”

“So let me play the squire,” he says softly, his breath warm against her ear; his hands make quick work of all her buckles and laces and bindings, soothing away scrapes and grooves in her tender skin as he goes, until she stands as bare as he, and the look in his eyes is enough to cloak her in glory.

_Part II_

“Will you say naught, sire?” she asks, standing tall and proud as steel, even as her skin breaks out in prickles, though whether from the cold air or the force of his gaze, she could not say. “A shieldmaiden I may be, but I have no hidden edges to cut you, I promise.”

“It is not that,” he says, and his hands raise to lift the curtain of her hair away, letting it fall behind her shoulders; she tilts her face to him as a flower to the sun, and he sounds as though his breath is stolen when he says, “Truly, I haven't the words to describe such beauty.”


	4. Hidden

_Prompt: LOTR/Narnia, Peter/Eowyn, tent walls are thin_

Peter has scarce left the confines of his tent when a mailed hand slaps him across the back, nearly upsetting his balance, as Eomer cheerfully bellows into his ear, “I hope your sleep was a restful one, as the rest of us could hardly get in a wink with that racket coming from your quarters!”

Thanking Aslan that he's never been one to blush, Peter smiles with ease and responds, “Truly, the women of Rohan are a delight to behold,” ushering his new friend out of the area as quickly as possible.

“Speaking of shieldmaidens, we must find my sister, who gets up and about far too early for me,” Eomer says; inside the tent, Eowyn listens to her brother's voice fade into the distance and breathes a giddy sigh of relief into the furs of Peter's bed.


	5. Sought

_Prompt: LOTR/Narnia, Peter/Eowyn, making it up to her._

“The wine is a thoughtful gesture,” Eowyn says, stretched out once more in Peter's furs, eyeing him over the goblet's rim, “but not nearly enough, I think, to make up for your transgressions, which were quite severe.”

“It was remiss of me to keep you so late as to court discovery,” Peter agrees, taking one of her slim feet in his hand, pressing his lips to its arch. “So I will endeavor to make it up to you, inch by inch,” he says, his hands tracing a path up her firelight-limned skin, his lips trailing just behind, over powerful calves and taut thighs, until his goal is reached and the remains of the wine spill unheeded to the floor.


	6. Some Things I Should Never Laugh About in Front of Family

_Prompt: Narnia/LOTR, Peter/Eowyn, turnabout is fair play_

“I shall never forget the expression on his face,” Eowyn says, savoring another of the Narnian grapes (their fruit, she thought, was very nearly as delicious and tempting as their King), watching the lamplight dance with the shadows across the planes of Peter's bare back.

“Someone had to inform your brother,” he points out, bending to retrieve his tunic from the debris they'd strewn across the floor of his campaign tent, “and as you seemed quite reluctant to do so, I took the matter in hand.”

She doesn't miss his sly grin at that last remark, and it spurs her own as she responds, “So you agree then that one's siblings should never be misinformed as to certain relations?” and though it may be just a touch cruel, she cannot help but laugh at the horrified widening of Peter's eyes, nor at his scramble to secure the tent flaps from the prying eyes (and giggles, she's quite sure) of his fellow monarchs.

_Part 2 - [And what was Eomer's reaction?]_

"I was prepared to be hit in the mouth, honestly - Eomer's a solid chap, but she is his sister, after all - but it turned out quite differently."

"Were there grateful tears," Edmund asks, earning him a glare from his sisters, "or perhaps a stern lecture on which body parts he would remove should you damage his dear baby sister?"

"Nothing of the sort, actually," Peter says, "probably because he knows Eowyn can take care of herself just as well as our own sisters - no, instead he let out a most dramatic sigh, offered me a large mug of ale, and said he wished me all the luck in the world, as I seemed determined to take my life in my hands."


	7. Your Dreams Are the Same as Mine

_Prompt: LOTR/Narnia, Lucy and Aragorn, their hands can heal, their hands can bruise_

“Let me just get my cordial,” Lucy says, as Aragorn commands, “Fetch me the athelas.”

“Mine is really more magical,” she insists, laughing, “and takes effect more quickly.”

“Yes, my lady,” he answers, taking her sprained wrist gently between his palms, running his king's fingers along her lifeline, “but as I caused the injury, I feel I must be the one to repair it,” and Lucy finds she has neither the heart nor the breath to object.

_Part 2: Hold Me When I Turn My Back [How did Lucy come to be injured?]_

“See,” she says, darting inside Aragorn's guard, made easier by the fact that he's so very much taller than she, “then you reverse the grip like so and slash upwards, and-”

It's possible she cries out then, because though he may be much larger than she, his reactions are not slowed in the least, and her wrist suddenly aches with a terrible fire.

“Have I wounded you, my lady?” he asks, urgently, and when she looks up from her injury (and ceases muttering Narnian curses, to be honest), she finds he's gone to his knees before her, reaching for her injured hand, and is making such eloquent apologies that she can't help but smile, even through the pain.


	8. These Are Family Affairs

_Prompt: Narnia/LOTR, Edmund/Faramir or Edmund,Faramir, younger brothers_

“Mine once hung me from a training dummy by the back of my tunic and threatened to use me for swordfighting practice if I persisted in showing him up in our language lessons,” Faramir says.

“Mine left me with the centaurs for a fortnight, having told me beforehand that if I consumed any of their food, I would begin to grow horse legs,” Edmund counters, and when Faramir laughs, continues with, “I fainted on the fourth day in front of the entire tribe – it was nearly a decade before they respected me once more!”

“Brothers,” Famamir says, pushing a full goblet of wine across the table in sympathy, “are truly both the greatest and worst thing to happen to a man – I did always long for a sister, though,” causing Edmund to nearly choke on his wine, before shaking his head and saying, “Oh no, my friend, let me tell you a thing or two about sisters – ”


	9. In That World You’ve Got Yourself Into

_Prompt: Narnia/LOTR, Susan/ Elrond or Arwen, One touch of nature makes the whole world kin._

“Kinship is not always a bond forged by blood,” Arwen says, “though those bonds, of course, oft prove the strongest.”

Susan watches her siblings, spread out amongst the revelers at the great feast, shining with the love they've found in this strange land, and says nothing.

“My father has said that you look as though you might be a part of our family,” Arwen says, almost offhand; Susan has been courted enough times to know what _that_ means, and turns her eyes to the fiercely lovely creature beside her, and says, “Your father does me great honor; I should be very much interested in seeing what new bonds I can forge with your house,” and takes pleasure in the glow in Arwen's eyes, and the gentle squeeze of her hand.


	10. Summon Up All My Charm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically this isn't a crossover as it features no Narnia characters, but it was written at the same time as the others and certainly belongs to the same universe.

_Prompt: LOTR, Éomer/Lothiriel, count your blessings_

_One_ , he thinks, the day Imrahil brings forth his daughter, a delicate, willowy creature who seems all shy glances and murmured words throughout the banquet, until he catches her after the meal in the stables, feeding pilfered apples to the horses, and she begs him with shining eyes for the names and stories of each, as though she would have preferred them to be her dinner companions.

_Two_ , he thinks, the day she says softly that a girl from the seaside has little chance to ride, and his sister gives him a swift kick under the table (so subtly and elegantly delivered that none would know it from her face, Eowyn has grown so ladylike) before she says, “But my brother the King would love to ride out with you, I am certain!” and he is grateful all that day, though his shin throbs with every hoofbeat.

_Three_ , he thinks, the day they are wed, and he presents her with a gleaming grey, just the shade of the ocean pearls in her hair, and she lays a kiss upon his lips and says, “I love your gift, husband, but I love thee all the more.”


	11. Take My Word

_Prompt: LOTR/Narnia; Lucy, the Ents, "We have lost the Entwives"_

“Have you tried looking for them?” Lucy asks, and the ents sigh and _hoom_ and _hom_ and admit to giving up once they realized they had no idea of where to begin a search; she would be quite frustrated with them if they weren't so very adorable, if giants in the form of trees could be called such.

“I think I may have an idea of where to look,” she says, thinking of the lithe, long-limbed dryads, with their laughing faces and dancing leaves, “but you must be willing to undertake a journey with me.”

She's not surprised when the one called Quickbeam steps forward, his branches nearly quivering with excitement, to volunteer, and as they set off, she leans down from her perch to tell him, “The ladies will love you, I'm quite sure of it.”


	12. I Always Will

_Prompt: Narnia/LotR, Lucy/Aragorn/Arwen, forgotten lands calling them home_

They both feel the pull, Lucy knows, every time she meets Arwen's clear grey eyes over Aragorn's back.

The East calls to her, Aslan's insistent growl humming low in the back of her mind, while Arwen's eyes turn often to the West, to the shores of the sea that calls to her with the voice of seabirds and family and home.

But always, it is Aragorn who turns them back, who lays his King's hands to either side of their faces, whose grave dark eyes hold a private sparkle just for them, a promise they know full well he will fulfill; and so they stay, and seek out one another's hands in the darkness as he sleeps, binding each other across the altar of his body.


	13. You Don't Have to Hide

_Prompt: Narnia/LOTR, Lucy/Aragorn, How far away the stars seem, and how far is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart_

The sound grows in Lucy's head as the years pass, from a gentle, rumbling purr against the back of her mind the first time she kisses Aragorn (and oh, how surprised he was, and how enthusiastic he proved himself to be) to a low growl when her siblings return to Narnia with promises to write often and keep her throne open, awaiting her return.

By the time she delivers her first child, so long a Queen of Gondor that her Narnian has grown rusty, and she finds herself groping for the proper speech when Ravens arrive with her precious letters, the noise has risen to a snarl, so that she cringes sometimes at nothing at all, and even Aragorn's hands cannot soothe her.

And now, now it is a roar, so loud she wants to stop her ears with her hands, as though she were younger than even her youngest child (how tall he is, taller already than she) to shut it out; but Aragorn takes her hands in his, and looks at her with his star-bright eyes, and says, “My love, we are not bound forever to Gondor, and beyond it are lands I yet long to see; will you take me to your lands, where the stars are still strange?” and in that moment, the lion is finally, blessedly, quiet.


	14. The Loneliness You Have Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These last two don't fit in the main timeline either, but are meant to take place after Susan has returned to England and lost Narnia.

_Prompt: LOTR/Narnia, Susan/Maglor, the first meeting_

It's like a splash of cold seawater to her system, laying eyes on him for the first time; years have passed since she last saw something not quite of this world, but her senses have not forgotten, though her heart may have hardened.

“You're not human,” she says, sharper than she meant because she no longer has the grace to blunt her meanings, and he turns his eyes on her, sharper by far than her words, distant points of light that pierce her straight through.

“Neither are you,” he says, and his smile might be feral, still not quite human, but to Susan it's recognition; something familiar, and approaching holy.


	15. Everything That I Am

_Prompt: Narnia/Silmarillion/LOTR, Susan/Maglor, doubt thou the stars are fire_

“They are flame,” he says firmly, “kindled from bright sparks by the hand of Varda herself, and spread through the sky so that the Eldar might awake in light, and not fear the darkness.”

“In school they said they were great balls of flaming gasses, burning on an unimaginable distance from us,” she says, though there's doubt in her voice, for how can she be certain of anything she was ever taught, in a world that seems only partially her own, lying in the arms of a man who is anything but human.

“Perhaps they are,” he says, “for the circles of the world hold infinite possibilities, and a thing can have more than one aspect – just as a girl can be a queen, and have starlight woven through her hair, for those who can see,” and all her doubts fall away, with all the understanding she could need right here beside her.


End file.
